New York Rodeo
by Black-Uranium
Summary: Savannah Jones has moved from her parents cattle farm to join New York City's finest. When she arrives she meets Mike Logan a hot headed detective. These are their stories.
1. Welcome to New York

_**This is my first L&O fanfic. Enjoy!**_

**Chapter One: Welcome to New York**

It was my first trip on a plane. I wanted to follow my Uncle Max's example. I was saddened that I could not get a break from school to attend his funeral. He was shot in the line of duty. My mother didn't want me to go but I had to.

At 18, I had already been out of high school for a couple years. I took a few semesters at Texas University, my father's alma mater. He was disappointed when I wanted to transfer to NYU and then become a New York City cop. My father wanted more for me than a cop's short life. I didn't care I wanted to do good. No one was better than Uncle Max was.

My eyes closed and I fell asleep leaning against the back of the seat. The flight from Dallas to New York was just long enough for me to catch up on some much needed sleep. I stirred when the captain said over the loudspeaker, "_Please fasten your seatbelts and put your trays in the upright positions."_

The New York City skyline was fabulous. Dallas did not look like this. Much more going on here. It was the city my mother was born in, one she couldn't make herself come back to; even to bury her brother.

I stood from my seat, pulled my carry on from the overhead compartment, and made my way off the plane. I was glad to be off. Relieved that I had survived my first flight.

Uncle Max's former partner, Mike Logan, was meeting me to take me to the apartment my father had secured for me. Daddy didn't agree with my choices but he didn't want me living in some dump either.

I wasn't sure who I was supposed to be looking for; I'd never met this Mike Logan. Uncle Max seemed to like him. He had said that Mike was a hot head like me. I smiled at the memory as she exited the terminal.

"Are you Savannah?" a man asked me. He was tall, brown hair and eyes. He wore a brown suit and a plaid tie.

"Yeah," I responded, "How'd you know?"

"Took a shot in the dark," Mike said, "Most New Yorkers don't walk around in plaid shirts and cowboy boots though."

"I must stick out like a soar thumb here huh?" I asked. "Savannah Jones."

"Mike Logan," he said back, "You got luggage?"

"I do but I'm completely turned around here," I responded.

"This way," he said leading me to where the luggage was dropped off the planes.

"That one's mine," I said pointing to the big purple suitcase.

"What do you got in here? A ton of bricks?" he asked as he grabbed my bag.

"Sorry, I'm here for a while so wasn't sure what I'd need," I said pulling the handle. He took my carry on bag from me and wheeled my bag down the isle.

"It's ok," he said lifting my bag into the trunk of his car. I looked around I had never seen this many people in my life. They were rushing about. Mike opened the door for me. "Get in."

"Thank you," I said softly and climbed in the passenger seat, clicking my belt in place.

I looked from Mike to the traffic that was backed up as far as I could see. I wasn't quite sure what to say. He was an attractive man. He must have been in his early 30's I guessed. I felt my cheeks flushed when he looked back at me. I smiled and quickly looked away.

"How do you get used to it?" I asked. "The traffic must be a nightmare."

"I've lived here all my life so it's all I've known," he smiled, "Must be a big change from a cattle ranch in Texas though." I smiled that this man had taken the time to get to know about something about me.

"Yeah, Texas may be bigger but there's not nearly as many people," I responded. Mike pulled the car to a stop in front of a towering building.

"You're lucky your father found this place," Mike said as he pulled my bags out of the trunk.

"Daddy wanted to make sure I was taken care of. I guess that's why he called you," I replied.

"Any family of Max's," he said sadly, "I'll look out for." His eyes met mine. He was close to my uncle. I saw that in his eyes.

"Well thank you," I replied. Mike made me nervous. The boys back home often looked at me but they were boys. Mike was a man. I wasn't sure if he would be interested or if I was taken to him because he was the first person, I'd met here. But damn he was attractive.

"Lucky your elevator works," Mike said pushing the up button. "This is a good building. Mine's down the block and the elevator has been down for the last year I'd say."

The elevator doors opened and he wheeled my suitcase in and pressed the button for the forth floor. I felt small standing next to him. He had to be well over six feet. I was just 5'4, even with the heels of my boots; my head barely cleared his shoulder. I looked up at him. The elevator bell rang and I turned to watch the doors open. I walked out the door first. He lingered behind me a second or two.

"4C?" I asked. He nodded and handed me the keys. I slowly opened the door and walked inside. He followed behind. I walked into the furnished living room. The couch was avocado green. That would have to go. I smiled to myself.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked me setting my bags down.

I felt my stomach rumble. I did not eat anything while I was on the plane. "I'm a little hungry. Where's a good place that's close?"

"I was about to grab a bite at this little Italian place, you want to join me?" he asked.

"Ok," I responded, "Am I dressed ok?" He gave me a look over.

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "Let's go."

"Ok," I grabbed my purse and keys and followed him back out the door, locking it behind me.

He opened the door to the restaurant for me. From what my mother had described of New York men, they were rude and uncaring. Not the case with Mike, he was a gentleman. I guess a rarity for this town. The restaurant was small and intimate.

"Thank you ma'am," I said to the hostess who led us to our seats. I could tell she found Mike attractive too. I don't know why it bothered me but it did. Mike paid her little attention.

"What can I get you to drink?" the waiter asked.

"Sweet tea, please," I answered. He looked at me strangely and wrote it down. Mike ordered a red wine. Moments later the waiter filled his glass and set down a hot cup of tea in front of me with a lemon and sugar packets on the side. I looked at him confused.

"Is something wrong, miss?" the waiter asked me.

"It's fine," I replied. I forgot that they didn't serve the syrupy sweet iced tea that I was used to getting in the south.

"Where are you from?" the waiter asked me.

"Texas," I answered.

"Oh that explains it," he responded. "Are you ready to order?" I ordered mushroom ravioli and Mike ordered fettuccini.

"When are you starting at the academy?" Mike asked after the waiter left.

"Monday," I answered. I was a little nervous about it. I was the youngest to enroll in the detective program but I had the college credits to qualify.

"I don't have a large case load but you're welcome to come by the station with me tomorrow," he said.

"That would be nice," I answered. Mike laughed when I took a sip of my hot tea.

"Sorry I should have warned you it was different here," he smiled.

"It's not that bad," I answered. It was that bad.

"I can't get over your accent," he said smiling.

"Sorry, I can't help it," I responded.

"No, it's refreshing," he said back.

"Thank you," I said glad that the room was dark so he couldn't see my face flush. The waiter returned setting plates of food in front of us. Then set a tall glass of iced tea on the table. I smiled.

"Sorry it's not presweetened," the waiter said to me.

"I appreciate it anyway," I said. I added a couple packets of artificial sweetener to it and took a sip.

"How's your food?" Mike asked.

"Delicious, thank you for inviting me," I responded. He nodded and we ate our food.

We walked quietly back to my apartment. I put my key in the lock and turned the knob. I looked back and saw that Mike was looking at me.

"I'll be by to pick you up about 7," he said. I nodded. He started to walk back to the elevator, and then turned back to me. "You sure you're 18."

"Yeah, why?" I asked.

"Because I'd feel bad about what's going through my head if you weren't," he replied with a smile and continued to the elevator. I continued into my apartment. I closed the door and leaned against it. A smile on my face.


	2. A Day at the Office

**Chapter Two: A Day at the Office**

I had just gotten out of the shower when I heard a knock at the door. _Who could it be this early? _I opened the door and it was Mike. I was standing there in my ratty bathrobe with my hair in a towel.

"I said 7, right?" he asked looking at me.

"I'm sorry, my body's still on Texas time," I replied, "Come in. I'll just be a minute."

"Take your time," he responded, "I don't have to be at the station until 9." He handed me a cup of coffee in a paper cup.

"Oh thank you," I said taking a sip. It was perfect. It had a couple sugars and cream in it.

"I didn't think you would have had time to get your own," he said. "It's ok?"

"Yes, it's great. Have a seat," I said walking into my bedroom, "I'll be right out." I quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt. I looked at myself in the mirror. _I still look like a hick. _However, I did not own anything else. I ran my brush through my wavy hair and pulled it into a low ponytail. I applied a little mascara and lip-gloss. Then made my way back to the living room where Mike was sitting on my couch.

"I don't have any New York clothes," I said, "I've got to shop later."

"You look good," he said licking his lips.

"Thank you," I felt my cheeks start to flush again. "Let's go."

He opened the door to his car for me and I climbed in and fastened my seatbelt.

"We do some ride a longs for rookies so you'll be a little a head of the class," Mike said as we pulled in the station lot.

"Thanks for doing this," I said, "Unpacking isn't as much fun as it sounds."

"This is my partner, Phil Ceretta," Mike said. Ceretta was what I imagined an Italian mobster to look like. He was a big man with dark hair and eyes. When he spoke though, he was warm and friendly.

"Nice to meet you," he said with a smile. He walked me into the captain's office.

"Savannah?" Donald Cragen said to me when I entered. "You sure have grown up. I haven't seen you since you were what 4?"

"Sorry I don't remember much from then," I answered. I still gave him a big hug.

"That's ok. How do you like the city?" he asked me.

"Mike's taken me a few places. Welcoming. Not at all what I had expected," I answered.

"New York is not as bad as your mother may have made it sound," Donald answered. He gave Mike a concerned look. Just what I needed another over protective father figure.

"Where did he take you?" Ceretta asked.

"An Italian place," I answered, "Alimento Veleno? I think it was called."

"That place is a glorified pizza parlor," he responded, "When you're in the mood next time you can join me and my wife at La Bella Luna, the linguini there is to die for."

"That sounds nice," I responded. These New Yorkers are definitely different from the people my mother had described. We talked like that for hours. Guess they were keeping me occupied. Then the call came. It was the job. A couple was dinning at a restaurant and a gunman opened fire. Killing the wife and the husband was rushed to the emergency room but it did not look good for him either.

"I've got to run," Mike said to me, "Can you make it home ok?"

"Yeah I've got to learn to navigate the city on my own eventually," I said. Mike and Sgt Ceretta were off to do their detective work.

"I know you're not official for a few more days but if you want to come in the morning you can help with case filing," Donald said waiving a cab for me.

"I'd like that," I said climbing into the cab. I gave the driver my address and we were off. Moments later, he stopped in front of my building and I paid him and climbed out. It was an interesting first day in New York.

I was able to make my way back to the station on my own the next morning. I arrived before Mike but Sgt Ceretta was already there looking over his case notes.

"Can I help with anything?" I asked sitting across from him in Mike's seat.

"If you can help with some research," he answered.

"What are we looking for?" I replied.

"Anything on Manuel Ortega," he responded, "Any records or anything on his wife."

"Ok I'm on it," I said, typing on the computer keys.

"Good morning," Mike said walking behind me.

"Sorry, I'm in your seat," I responded.

"It's ok you're doing half my job," he said, "Not really the fun half though so you can sit there."

"Cragen's here," Ceretta said, "Let's go. You too, Savannah." I nodded and followed the men into the captain's office.

"With five slugs," Mike said, "Mr. Ortega just took out a mortgage on his nine lives."

"Don't know if he'll be able to make the payments," I responded. I sat down in a chair next to Ceretta. Mike was towering over me so he sat on the edge of the captain's desk.

"If he makes it through the week he may be able to talk to us," Ceretta said.

"Rich Columbian, automatic weapons, do I need to paint a picture here?" Donald asked.

"I couldn't find a record on him," I said, "Or the wife."

"Ballistics will be no help," Mike added, "The bullets turned to mush on impact."

"You have to be somebody to deserve this kind of firepower," Donald said.

"I have never seen Manuel Ortega or his wife on page six," Ceretta stated.

"Is there anyone left in the Ortega family?" I asked.

"Uniform took the girl to her grandmother," Mike answered.

"Go talk to them," Donald ordered.

Mike turned back and looked at me, "Rain check on dinner tonight?" I didn't remember him asking. Any chance to spend time with Mike was welcome.

"Sure," I responded softly, "Y'all be careful."

"Mmm…" he said smiling at me, "That accent." I smiled in return watching Mike and Ceretta head out the door.

"Be careful with Mike," Donald said to me.

"Why he seems nice?" I asked.

"He dates around a lot," he answered and returned to his office. I guess I needed to be a little more guarded. I was wearing my heart on my sleeve. I sat back down at Mike's desk and continued with my research. I heard the phone ring.

Donald came out of his office, "Why don't you head down to the ballistics lab. You can learn a little more there." I nodded and headed to the lab. When I entered, Mike was sitting on a desk and Ceretta was finishing up on the phone.

"Did I miss anything?" I asked.

"We found Ortega's client list. All Columbian," Mike said. "We also found a .38 Derringer."

"That's an awfully small gun," I stated.

"All 22 of Manual's clients are also on the Fed's Christmas list," Ceretta said after hanging up the phone.

"Merry Christmas," Mike chuckled, "You're under arrest."

The lab tech walked into the room, "It's a .38 Derringer but the barrel's too short for rifling. Doesn't a .38 raise a flag for you?"

"My flag hasn't been raised in weeks," Mike responded, giving me a quick wink. I breathed to keep my face from turning red.

"This will hoist your colors," the lab tech said, ".38 found in a major dealer, Felix Arias."

"Let's head back up," Ceretta said. I rushed out of the elevator. I found that name when I was searching before.

"Mr. Arias was on a return flight from Columbia," I said, "Two shots in the back an hour after he left JFK."

"It was a personal weapon same caliper," Ceretta said.

"You probably couldn't prove it in court. But that's an unusual gun," I stated. "I was reading a DEA circular earlier. It's dated a few weeks ago."

"Just some light reading?" Mike questioned me.

"Yeah, here it is," I said then began to read, "A source in Columbia says a cartel hit man on his way to New York. They don't know the target."

"Javier Giaton," Mike read the name on the circular.

"He looks like a young Elvis," I said.

"If our boy in the hospital hits Arias and Elvis came here for revenge are we missing something?" Ceretta asked.

"Manuel is still in the hospital," I responded.

"Then Elvis still has a job to do," Mike added.

"If Manuel dies, Elvis is on the next plane outta Dodge," I said.

"If Manuel dies, you prop him up behind a piano. No one knows. Put two uniforms on the door," Donald said. Ceretta and Mike nodded.

"We still have to find Elvis," Mike said, "Before Manuel leaves the hospital."

"Manuel hits a major dealer and there's no talk? His mother knows nothing?" Ceretta asked, "My mother is 73 and knows how much I spend on a suit."

"Your mother is in the clothing business," Donald answered.

"How does she think he pays for that 5th Avenue apartment?" Ceretta asked.

"In the morning question her again," Donald said. "Let's head home for the evening."

"You want a ride?" Mike asked me as went entered the elevator, "Keep you from having to catch a cab." I nodded and followed him to his car. This case was getting interesting. I was disappointed that I could not be more involved. Even more that I was starting training at the academy in the morning and wouldn't be able to work the case through.

Mike opened the door for me and walked me to my door. I stood there looking at him for a moment. He rested his hand against the doorframe above my head. He was close. I felt my heart beat faster.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" he asked leaning in closer.

"No…" I started, "Well a little." I reached out and straightened his tie. Without intending to, I pulled him closer, our faces inches apart. I slowly licked my lips waiting for what happened next. Mike pressed his lips softly against mine. I had been kissed before but nothing like that. I felt his kiss radiate to through my entire body. He released me before I was ready.

"You want to take this inside?" he whispered in my ear.

"I wish I could," I sighed softly, "It's an early day for me tomorrow."

"Ok," he responded and kissed my forehead. "Goodnight." He left me standing in the hallway. I waited until the elevator doors closed. I opened my door and walked in. I caught my breath and made my way to bed. I tossed and turned most of the night. The kiss ran through my mind all night.


	3. A Learning Experience

_**Adult content in this chapter. Reader discretion advised.**_

**Chapter 3: A Learning Experience **

I drug myself into training the next morning. PT at 5 am was not my idea of a great time but it was a necessary evil. I had to get through this so that I could do what I really wanted. The gun training was my favorite part. I had been shooting guns since I was big enough to hold them. I hit my targets easily.

"Jones!" the commander shouted.

"Yes, sir," I responded.

"There's a Captain Craigen on the line and he wants you over at the 27th immediately," he stated. "Go! But don't think that because you're Max Greevy's niece you'll get special treatment. Capt Craigen had better submit a full report."

"Yes, sir," I answered and headed to the 27th.

"How was training?" Donald asked my when I arrived.

"Brutal," I said, "But worth it in the long run I guess." I still had on my sweaty academy t-shirt and cargo pants tucked in my combat boots.

"I was able to get you training hours for helping with the investigation. You can't question just yet but you can watch," Donald responded, "This will be helpful."

I peered through the two-way mirror, "Who are they questioning?"

"That is Ramon Benavidez," he answered, "Miguel's boss at the travel agency."

"Columbian passports were found in your client's safe," I heard Mike shout at the Ramon's lawyer through the glass, "US Visa stamp. He doesn't look like a consulate to me."

"Come on," the lawyer responded, "It's a dinky federal rap."

"Well he'll get a dinky federal cell," Mike replied.

"Make sure I get the one with the tennis court," Ramon interjected.

"The Feds say the passports belong to Columbian hit squads," Ceretta stated, "One is an alias used by Javier Giaton."

"Your client is Murder, Inc's travel agent," Mike added.

Ramon's face went blank. He was scared. This Giaton was a major player. I remember from the report Giaton was referred to as _El Diablo, _the Prince of Darkness.

"You bought a ticket for the man who shot Manuel," Ceretta said, "That's Murder Two."

"I didn't kill anybody," Ramon exclaimed.

"Tell your client the law," Mike responded.

"What is he talking about?" Ramon asked his lawyer.

"We don't need all the conspirators to put one away," Ceretta looked at Ramon, "DA says he'll go along. You'll get accessory if you give up Giaton."

"I only booked the flights," Ramon stated.

"Under what name?" Mike asked.

"Paulo Estaban," Ramon replied, "But I didn't know who he was."

"Where's Giaton?" Mike asked.

"The Europa."

"For Elvis," Mike said, "Why not the best?"

"You enjoy that?" Mike asked me when he exited the interrogation room.

"Very exciting," I replied. "You guys headed over to the Europa?"

"No busts for you yet," Donald said. "Head back to training. I'll pull you back once we've got him."

"Ok," I said following Mike and Ceretta out the door, "Thanks for doing this for me."

"It's worth the extra paper work," he responded.

Training the rest of the day was mundane. We went over basic traffic violations and laws. I was relieved when I got the call in the morning that I was to report to the station instead of to training. Hands on training always worked better for me.

"We arrested him," Ceretta said to me when I arrived, "But the DA doesn't have enough to indict. We have 4 days. We can use all the help we can get."

"We need to find the weapon," Mike said. I looked at the report.

"Giaton is left handed?" I asked.

"Yes, why?" Mike responded.

"I shoot left handed too," I answered, "If I were shooting an automatic I'd want to make sure the shells weren't hitting me in the face."

"Who makes a .223 automatic that ejects left?" Ceretta asked.

"Isn't there a Steyr Commando .223 that has an adjustable ejection," I answered. I pulled the information up on the computer, "Yes. Right or Left."

"What did you find?" Donald asked.

"We're looking for a hot gun dealer who sold a Steyr," Mike answered.

"Here's a list a list of the dealers who stocked Steyr at one time or another," I said handing them the list.

"Call them," Donald said.

"Which con is our new best friend?" Mike asked.

"Tommy Bruno," Donald said.

"I rousted that guy a couple years ago," Ceretta said.

"Well you guys are his old customers," Donald responded. "Get to know him." I sit back and watch as Mike and Ceretta called different gun dealers pretending to be buddies with this Tommy Bruno. Ceretta was getting a bite.

"That's a little steep but I can do it," Ceretta said into the phone. "George Labrano has a Steyr and has already sold two this month."

"The meeting's set up?" Mike asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon at the Four Points," he answered. I looked to Captain Craigen.

"Sorry Savannah," he said, "Still can't get you in on a bust especially not one like this."

Disappointed I said, "Ok."

"You want to grab a cup of coffee?" Mike asked me.

"Sure," I answered. We hadn't had the chance to talk about that night he kissed me. I wasn't sure what it meant. Or if I wanted it to mean anything. Or if he did.

We found an open diner and sat in a corner booth. He ordered us coffee and a slice of pie. Southern peach pie.

"This is a great hole in the wall place," he said.

"Reminds me of the old country diners back home," I answered. I had so many questions for him but I didn't want to ask. He saw the questions in my eyes.

"This can go as far as you want," he said climbing into his car, "I won't pressure you." I looked at him. My inexperience must have shown in my face. I did want to be with him but I wasn't exactly sure how. I started by leaning towards him in the car. I licked my lips a little. Then pressed mine against his. He cupped my neck in his hand and slid it slowly down the collar of my shirt.

My hand rested on his inner thigh. I started to my hand up. He stopped my hand with his. "You sure you want to do that?" he asked. I nodded and he slid my hand up. I felt his erection through his slacks. "See what you're doing to me." He caught my bottom lip between his teeth. I laughed a little when his elbow hit the horn.

"This isn't exactly the best place for this," he said. "Put on your seatbelt." I leaned back in my seat and obeyed. He started the car and pulled out. Seconds later, we were parked in front of my apartment building. He was around the car opening my door faster than I could take my seatbelt off. He took my hand and led me into the building. We were the only ones in the elevator. He pulled my close and lifted me to my toes so he could kiss me again. I clutched his arms and parted my lips. His tongue met mine. I felt myself fall when the elevator door opened but he caught me and led me to my apartment door.

Keys where were my keys. I fumbled in my pockets and finally found them. I threw the door open and pulled him in after me. He kicked the door closed and I fell backwards onto my avocado couch pulling him on top of me. He squeezed my thighs that circled his waist. I pulled loosened his tie.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked giving me one last chance to back out.

"I want this," I said. He looked down into my eyes then pulled the snaps of my shirt open. His hand on my bare skin he kissed my neck. I moaned softly when his hand cupped my breast. He pulled away from me.

"Wait," he panted, "Are you on anything?" I shook my head. "Damn, I don't have a condom with me." I scooted myself to a sitting position. He sat down beside me to catch his breath.

"Sorry," I said, hoping the disappointment didn't show clearly on my face.

"It's not your fault," he said, "I just didn't think. I wasn't planning on this obviously."

He kissed me softly on the lips and stood. "I better go. If I stay here any longer I don't think I'll be able to stop myself."

"I've got my big test in the morning," I said.

"Ok," he said walking out the door, "Don't forget to lock the door after me." I nodded and obeyed.

I was unfocused during PT the next morning. I luckily I still passed that part of the exam. I shook the thoughts of Mike out of my head. I needed all clarity to complete the written part of the test. I took my time and completed the test. I wouldn't know anything for a few days. Until then I was done with police training. Detective's exam was next week. I stood and left the exam room when I felt my pager go off. It was the station.

I quickly dialed the number, "Savannah, Phil's been shot. Meet us down at the hospital." I think it was Donald but didn't focus on the voice long enough. I pushed a man in a suit out of the way and grabbed the cab. I directed the driver to take me to the hospital.

"Hey what happened?" I asked.

"The guy shot him," Mike answered his voice was shaky. "I was in the closet. I didn't get out in time."

"It's not your fault," I replied.

"There's a slug near his spine," he said, "I don't know."

I took his hand and looked up at him, "You can't see through walls, Mike."

"This guy was on the astral plane," Capt Craigen said, "He'd have popped Phil if he blinked funny."

"Paul Robinette," the black man said that I didn't recognize, "I'm with the DA's office."

"Wish this meeting could have been under different circumstances," I replied.

"We still have the same problem with Labrano," he said.

"No!" Mike shouted.

"I'm not saying we'll plead him," Robinette said, "But if he can identify Gaitan."

"If the son of a bitch had shot Stone would you even think of dealing?" Mike shouted, "My partner might spend the rest of his life in a chair. You want Labrano too bad. Send Elvis back to Columbia."

"Mike," Craigen said, "Why don't you head home? I'll wait. Get some sleep."

"You want me to go with you?" I asked him as we walked out.

"Yes…no," he said, "I don't know."

"Can you drive?" I asked.

"I think so," he said. Mike didn't open the door for me as he usually did. He just unlocked his door. "Get in." I opened the door and climbed in. I wasn't sure how but we made it to his apartment.

"The elevator's out," he said, "We'll have to take the stairs. Only two floors up though." I followed him up the stairs. He unlocked the door and I followed him inside. It was defiantly a man's apartment. Leather furniture everywhere. I smiled and closed the door behind me. He took off his suit coat and laid it across the back of the chair. He yanked off his tie and threw it on the same chair.

"You want a beer?" he asked walking into his kitchen, "Sorry you can't have one. You're not old enough." He laughed downing the first one.

"No don't like beer anyway," I answered.

"Are you sure I'm not too old for you?" he asked popping the top off his second bottle.

"Only if you think you are," I responded. I sank down in his couch. He slammed his beer on the coffee table and sat down beside me. He looked at me a moment.

"Come here then," he pulled me into his lap. I straddled him and he pressed his lips against mine hungrily. His hand cupped my breast over my shirt. I matched the movements of his hips with my own. I felt him grow harder against me. The fabric of our pants between us. He pulled my shirt over my head and threw it on the floor. My hands worked at the buttons of his shirt. I touched his bare chest with my fingertips and he pulled me closer. His teeth nipped at the sensitive flesh of my neck. I cried out not sure, if it was pleasure, pain, or both.

"Have you ever done this before?" he asked leaning me back on his couch. I nodded. I had a boyfriend at UT that I had sex with a few times. He was the only one though. He slowly slid his hand down the front of my pants. I gasped when he started to rub my swollen clit with his middle finger. "No one's ever touched you like that before?" I shook my head. He continued rubbing watching my eyes as I came. He unbuttoned my pants and sliding them off me followed by my panties. He slid his finger inside me and rubbed my clit again with his thumb. He stretched me by sliding a second finger inside me.

"You're still really tight," he said sounding pleased at the thought. "You ready?" I nodded. I wanted to feel him inside me. He lowered his own pants. I was amazed at the size of him. I watched as he slid a condom on then positioned himself between my legs and slowly slid inside me. I pulled him closer and squeezed my thighs around his hips. He thrust deeper inside me. "Oh you feel good."

I moaned against his shoulder as he thrust in and out of me. He thrust a final time and released. Then he collapsed on top of me. He pulled out of me and stood up walking naked into his kitchen to throw away the condom. I shakily sat up looking for the rest of my clothes. I slid on my underwear before he came back.

"You leaving?" he asked sitting back down on his couch. He took my hand.

"Do you want me to?" I asked looking back at him. He pulled me onto the couch beside him. He draped his arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him and closed my eyes.

I opened them hours later when the sun peered through his bedroom window. He was standing there looking out. I stood up and walked behind him. I wrapped my arms around his waist.

"You ok?" I asked.

"They pleaded him," he said, "Phil was ok with it. It meant Giaton goes away too."

"It was Ceretta's choice?" I asked.

"Yes, a fucked up choice but his," he answered still looking out the window. "Giaton was shot coming out of the courthouse this morning."

He turned and looked down at me, "I hope you didn't think you had to have sex with me."

"I didn't do anything I didn't want to," I responded.


	4. The Luck of the Irish

**Chapter Four: The Luck of the Irish**

"I got this letter from the Chief of Detectives," I said to Mike who was sitting on my avocado couch watching the replay some game on the television set.

"You didn't open it yet?" he asked taking it from me.

"I didn't want to be alone when I read it," I responded. "Open it for me. Need a bit of your Irish luck." I smiled and sat beside him.

"Don't know how lucky I am," he said, "I've had two partners shot and now they've stuck me with Lennie Briscoe until Phil gets back on his feet. Too bad you can't be my partner." He opened the envelope. "Or maybe you can. Says here you've passed the detectives' exam with the highest mark in the history of the test."

"Does it say where I'll be assigned?" I asked. He continued reading the letter and looked a little puzzled. "What?"

"You've been assigned to the 27th," he said.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked.

"If we're partners I can't do this anymore," he dropped the letter, pulled me into his arms, and kissed me. He traced his hand down my neck but stopped when his pager went off. "Duty calls. Sorry." He straightened his tie and put on his suit jacket. "Are you doing anything now?"

"At 3 in the morning," I said, "I had no plans for anything but sleep since you're leaving."

"Why don't you tag along?" he said.

"People will talk if we show up at a crime scene together," I responded.

"Screw people," he replied, "You'll be covering crime scenes soon anyway get some experience. You just have to let me take lead though."

"It's a shooting?" I asked.

"Yeah," Mike said opening the door for me "Could be gross. Can you handle it?"

"Sure," I said. I opened my door when we arrived at the scene.

"Congratulations," Carmine a CSU investigator said to me.

"For what?" I asked.

"Making Detective," he said.

"Oh thanks, sorry haven't gotten all my beauty sleep in," I responded.

"Could have fooled me," he replied.

"The body Carmine what about the body," Mike said.

"Meet John Doe," Carmine said, "Took one, frontal entry."

"Was he picked clean?" Mike asked.

"No I found these in his pocket," Carmine answered. He held up four tickets.

"Fight tickets?" I asked.

"They look like really good seats too," Carmine smiled at me. "You like the fights?"

"Not really Carmine," I replied.

"You guys working together?" he asked.

"Not quite," I answered.

"Over here," Jameson another CSU investigator shouted, "It's a .32 automatic." He picked it up off the ground.

"Not exactly a mugger's choice," Mike said.

"Put it back," I recognized the voice. Lennie Briscoe had been at the station as Mike's fill in partner for the last few weeks. He was kind of chauvinist but he got the job done. "Exactly where you found it."

"What no tie?" I asked him as he walked closer.

"What I was doing sweetheart," he said, "You don't need a tie. This the usual treatment of a crime scene? You stirring it with a stick? Hey before you stomp all the evidence into the pavement, can I see a diagram?"

"Lennie Briscoe's your new partner?" Carmine asked Mike.

"It's temporary," he responded.

"You hope," Carmine said back.

"Sweetheart you mind taking notes for me? I can't read my own writing," Briscoe said to me.

"Taking your notes is what I live for," I answered. "Davis and Lenik were the first to respond."

"How soon did you get here?" Mike asked Lenik.

"Pretty quick," Lenik answered, "We were at Broadway and Murray."

Briscoe looked over Lenik and said, "Stuffing yourself at Oscar's Doughnuts?"

"We were at a stop light," Lenik responded.

"When you came by before did you see anything?" Briscoe asked.

"It was quiet," he said.

"Y'all hang out for a few," I said following Mike and Briscoe.

"It's not about the doughnuts," Mike said.

"It is where there's powdered sugar on his blues," Briscoe responded. "How about we get some sleep and question the bartender in the morning?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," Mike answered. We waited until Briscoe was safely in his car.

"Do you want to go to your place or mine?" I asked softly as we walked back to his car.

"While we're working a case together I think we shouldn't sleep together," he said.

"Wait," I said, "Is that why you wanted me to come along? So you can put this dumb rule on me?"

"Hey, hey," he said, "It's not about that. I just want to stay objective. And if I'm thinking about getting in bed with you I can't."

"Ok," I really didn't understand but I didn't want an argument. He drove me home and I opened the door.

"Savannah?" he softly said to me.

"Yeah?" I looked back at him.

"It gives me a reason to solve this quickly," he said smiling. "Get some sleep."

"See you at PJ Smyth's in a few hours," I said, then walked into my building.

I opened my apartment door and lay down on my avocado couch it still smelled like him. I fell asleep.

I woke a few hours later and showered. I searched my closet and dressed in a suit. It was lower cut than I would normally wear but still work place acceptable.

Noon was still early to be at a bar but I opened the door slowly. Briscoe and Logan were sitting at the bar drinking coffee talking to the bartender. They all watched me enter. Then went back to talking.

"I was working the rounds before last call," PJ, the bartender, said.

"So you heard the shot, right?" Mike asked. He watched me as I sat down at the bar beside Briscoe.

"Guy was out there lying on the ground," PJ said.

"Did any of your customers know him?" I asked.

"While I'm calling the cops, I got the evacuation of Saigon going on here," he answered. "I didn't know him. He was just some guy on the street."

"We'll talk more later," Briscoe said setting his coffee cup down on the bar. We walked to the car.

"Jones," Briscoe said looking at me, "You sure clean up nice."

"Thanks," I said.

"You know Logan," Briscoe looked at Mike, "I don't have any problems with your jinx."

"Is that so?" he responded.

"Two partners shot. A lot of guys think you're a black cat," Briscoe said, "The fact is my ex-wives are thrilled. They're under the impression that I'm heavily insured."

"Well tell them it's a temp job," Mike said back.

"I like short matches," Briscoe responded, "just don't send me through the door first. I don't like to live dangerously anymore."

"The victim had four tickets to Gleason's Gym," I looked at Briscoe, "Do you know it?"

"Yeah it's in Brooklyn," he answered. I climbed in the backseat and we were off.

"Someone gave this guy," I showed the man at the gym the victim's picture, "four tickets to the Saturday night fights. Y'all know him?"

"Maybe we out to ask Doc," he replied, "He's good with faces."

"That's Tommy Duff," Doc said. "He never bet minorities."

"Besides offending the NAACP did he offend any bookies?" Mike asked.

"Gambling's illegal," Doc responded, "Besides Tommy never bet more than $20 bucks."

"Where did he live?" Briscoe asked.

"Not sure," Doc answered, "but his wife waited tables at a dinner near the docks."

"Tommy and me been apart nearly ten years," Mrs. Duff said, "We never divorced. You know the church and all."

"When was the last time you saw him?" Mike asked.

"Not for a while. Tommy was a sport," she answered.

"What kind of sport?" I asked.

"Rounding the bars chasing skirts," she answered, "It was probably a jealous husband that got him."

"How about a jealous wife? Where were you?" Mike inquired.

"I was with Mount Senior looking for an audience for my mother," she answered.

"What did Tommy do for work?" Briscoe asked.

"He kept an office net to the Norwegian Sailor's home," she answered

We walked into Duff's office building led by his landlord.

"From 43-45 this place was filled with women, lookers, like you," the landlord looked me over, "Since the war…"

"Did Tommy do a lot of entertaining?' I asked.

"He sold liquor and cigarettes to bars all over town," the landlord answered.

"Where'd he get it?" Briscoe asked.

"I don't know a van would bring it," he answered.

I walked to a list on the wall, "Are these the bars he sold too?"

"Like I said all over town," the landlord responded.

"Look," I said to Mike.

"PJ Smyth's where Tommy Duff was just a guy walking down the street," Mike responded.

"I don't know where Tommy got his booze," PJ said. "You think I'd ask him?"

"Not if the price was right," Briscoe stated, "Who was with him?"

"He'd come in here on Thursday and I'd comp him a tab out of respect," PJ answered.

We made our way back to the station. I was sitting at the computer. Briscoe and Mike were looking through files. Briscoe was sitting at Ceretta's desk. He opened a drawer looking for a pencil.

"Hey Briscoe," Mike said, "What are you doing scavenging for bones?"

"I'm going to use one drawer," he answered.

"What's the point," Mike snapped, "Phil's going to be back in a week."

Mike walked behind me leaning over my shoulder looking at my screen. I continued typing. He was so close his smell filled my nose. It was a distinct musk. I felt his breath on my neck.

"What did you find?" Briscoe asked me. I inhaled slowly.

"A list of Tommy Duff's priors," I said, "11 arrests, numbers, extortion, assault."

"It walks and quacks like a mob hit," Briscoe laughed.

"What's not on here is adultery," I added.

"His wife said he greased the zipper," Mike stood up and took a few steps away from me.

"Hey your Italians and Hispanics kill for love. Micks kill for money," Briscoe said.

"I hope by tomorrow you have more to go on than ethic slurs," Capt Craigen said.

Mike walked with Craigen back to his office. I caught my breath and pulled the reports from the night of the shooting.

"Hey Briscoe," I said, "Look at this." I handed him the file.

"Logan," he said, "You thought the doughnuts meant nothing. The fat cop said they passed the bar at 2:15."

"His partner said 1:45," I added, "Before closing. She's hiding something."

"Bring them in," Craigen stated.

I found myself on the outside of the glass looking in again. Lenik and Davis were nervous. I watched her movements and his. They didn't give all the information in the report.

"Maybe it was 2:15," Davis said.

"Maybe it's whatever he says," Briscoe yelled back.

"Don't let him take you to a disciplinary committee," Mike said to her softly.

"OK we saw him," she said, "Before he got shot. He came out of a bar following a woman. I thought he was chasing her so we slowed down."

"He was trying to get her number," Lenik interjected.

"She wanted to lose him," Davis said.

"She was laughing at his jokes," Lenik stated.

Mike looked at Davis, "Was she laughing?"

"She smiled," she said, "But she looked scared."

"Scared of him?" Mike asked.

"Scared of something," she answered.

"Don't leave," Briscoe said as he and Mike walked out the door.

"He does have assault on his rap sheet," I said when they closed the door behind him.

"You guys hungry?" Briscoe asked. I nodded and we made our way to a pizza parlor.

"Sweet t…Coke," I said to the waiter who was taking our drink order. Mike chuckled softly.

"Where you from Jones?" Briscoe asked.

"Just outside of Dallas, Texas," I answered stirring my spaghetti.

"What did you do there?" he asked me. Mike sat back in his chair listening.

"We have a cattle farm," I answered.

"Yehaw huh?" he said.

"Y'all don't mind a third wheel for a while?" I asked.

"You're ass is nicer to look at than Logan's," he said. They both chuckled. "What was this girl really afraid of Duff singing another chorus of Danny Boy?"

"Maybe she just didn't feel like being hassled by some asshole in a bar," I responded.

"Somebody had to see them together," Mike added.

"Maybe a regular who'll be back tonight," I stated. Briscoe stood and headed for the door. Mike and I looked at each other confused and followed him.

"See you, Nicky," Briscoe said to the owner.

"Hey Briscoe," Mike said, "We never got a check."

"Guy that owns this place is my snitch," he said, "He thinks I'm corrupt so he trusts me, all right? You headed to the hospital?" Mike nodded. "Say hi to Phil."

"You want company?" I asked Mike.

"I'm good, thanks," he responded to me.

"Come on Jones, we'll get ahead on paper work," Briscoe said. I watched Mike walk off and then followed Briscoe back to the station.

"What do you have going with Logan?" he asked me as we sat down.

"What do you mean?" I responded.

"I see the way he looks at you," he said, "I looked at my first wife and my second wife like that at one point. Don't worry I won't tell Craigen."

"Thanks," I replied, "I don't really know what's going on to be honest. Just playing it by ear."

"What's all this?" Mike asked sternly when he barged in.

"We've pulled the credit card receipts from PJ's the night of the shooting," I said.

"You got any names?" Mike snapped.

"A few," Briscoe answered.

"You going to send them Christmas cards?" Mike asked.

"We were waiting on you," Briscoe responded.

"I'm partial to singing telegrams," Mike replied, "You want to hit the streets or what?"

"Tommy Duff isn't getting any deader," Briscoe said, "Can you spare five minutes so I can take care of some business?"

"Go ahead. Make sure all that life insurance is paid up," Mike smiled and looked at me. I was sitting at an empty desk. My suit jacket was hanging on the back of my seat. Mike leaned in and whispered, "You're making it really hard to focus."

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"You've got those," he said motioning to my breasts, "On display."

"Sorry," I said smiling and turned back to my computer screen. "How's Phil?" I asked over my shoulder.

"He'll be out of the hospital in a few days," he responded, "But he's taking a desk job at the 110."

"Sorry," I said.

"He's growing on me I guess," he replied.

"You two done gabbing? We can head out," Briscoe said.

"Tammy Wilson looks to be our best lead," I said, "She goes to PJ's just about every night."

"Ok," Briscoe said taking the address from me. I pulled on my jacket and buttoned it up as we headed to the car.

"She was blonde," Tammy said, "Didn't have a great face but she had terrific make up."

"Terrific how?" Briscoe asked. I smiled he had no idea.

"You like a model or actress or something," she responded, "I followed her into the little girls' room. When I told her I was really impressed with her makeup, she bragged that it was Jacques Dessange."

"Who?" Mike asked confused.

"Jacques Dessange. They do the makeup in the salon," I said, "My mother loves it."

"I'm saving for an appointment," Tammy responded.

"At Jacques Dessange we pursue a total concept," the hoity woman from the salon, Suzanne said, "A woman is reconceived. It's custom blended for her skin."

"So you couldn't get this at any drug store?" Mike asked. I laughed, louder than I intended.

"Never!" Suzanne responded.

"Do you keep records?" Briscoe asked.

"They're confidential," she replied.

"Let's pretend we're all on the same horse, all right?" Briscoe said, "You don't want us to call all your clients?"

"If you don't give us the information we'll have to get it from them," Mike added. Suzanne reluctantly handed us her book of clients' photos.

"There were traces of Jacques Desange on Duff's clothes," I said looking at the report. We brought Tammy Wilson back to the station to look over the photos.

"Guys, I'm sorry, she's not here," Tammy said looking over the photos.

"Don't women borrow makeup? Maybe she got it from a friend," Capt Craigen asked.

"I don't think so, her makeup was fabulous I'm sure it was done by a professional," she said.

"Maybe a Jacques Desange professional?" I looked at Mike and Briscoe.

"You you see her?" I asked Tammy when we arrived at the salon.

"That's her," she said pointing to a tall 40 something woman applying makeup.

"I'm Detective Logan and this is Detective Briscoe. Do you mind telling us your name?" Mike asked.

"Mary Kostrinski," the woman replied, "May I call an attorney?"

Briscoe read her rights and lead her to the station. Mike and Assistant DA Robinette met with Ms. Kostrinski and her attorney. Briscoe and I were waiting on fingerprint matches from the lab.

"Look at this," I said to Briscoe. "Where's she going?" The lawyer and Kostrinski were walking out.

"There's a five point match on the 32 caliper shell casing that matches Mary Kostinski's thumb," Briscoe said.

I settled on my avocado couch, propping my feet up on the coffee table. I flipped through the channels. I found myself watching some dumb game. Mike would have watched this. I sighed aloud and flipped the channel again. I heard a soft knock at the door.

"Who is it?" I yelled. I didn't want to get up. I didn't know who it would be. I hadn't ordered my pizza yet. The party knocked again. I crawled off my couch and stumbled reluctantly to the door.

"Who is it?" I yelled and swung the door open. It was Mike. I slammed the door in his face. I was standing there in my ratty sweatpants and t-shirt.

"Savannah? Please don't be pissed at me," he shouted through the door. I slowly opened it again.

"Sorry," I said, "I wasn't expecting company."

"You look cute," he said, "Can I come in? I brought pizza."

"Ok," I said and opened the door wider for him. He walked through and I closed it behind him. "So what's the status of the case?" I flopped back down on the couch.

"What do you mean?" he asked sitting down beside me.

"Don't want to break any rules," I said.

"I was wrong," he said, "And it hurt more than it helped."

"How so?" I asked.

"You and those," he said motioning to my breasts again, "I've had blue balls since we started this case. I just never worked with someone I was hot for." He took my hand and put it in his lap.

"So you think just because you're ready, I am?" I asked moving my hand.

"No," he responded, "I like spending time with you. I don't want to fuck this up."

"You want to watch a movie or something?" I asked.

"Ok," he said. I walked to the kitchen and grabbed some plates.

"What kind of Coke do you want?" I asked.

"There's more than one kind?" he laughed.

"I've got Coke, Dr. Pepper, and Sprite. What kind do you want?" I asked. He laughed and I brought him a Coke.

"What do you want to watch?' he asked.

"You pick just no sporting events," I said and sat back down on the couch beside him. He flipped through the channels and stopped on some John Cusack movie. We ate pizza and watched the movie for a while. I watched him watching the movie. He looked back at me.

"What?" he asked. I leaned into him and kissed him softly on the mouth. He opened his mouth when I ran my tongue across his lower lip. He cupped my face in his hand and kissed me harder, leaning me back on the couch. I slid my hand in his pants. Cupping him in his boxers. He responded to my touch.

"You sure?" he asked pulling off my shirt. "Mmm-huh," I said pulling at his. He kissed my neck and cupped my bare breast with his hand. I felt my heart pound in my chest when I unfastened his pants. He sighed with relief. He slid my pants off and threw them on the floor. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he thrust deep inside me. I quivered as he continued thrusting deeper and deeper. I pulsated around him when he thrust a last time inside me.

"You ok?" he asked me.

"More than ok," I said. He lifted me up and carried me into my bedroom.


	5. Family Values

_**Hope you are enjoying the stories. Comment and review!**_

**Chapter Five: Family Values**

Shopping at a big department store was on a busy afternoon was not my kind of fun. I had to buy "New York" clothes. My western shirts and jeans were not fitting the bill anymore. I happily ran my father's credit card for a couple pantsuits.

_ Missing Child, _the voice on the loudspeaker said, _Storewide lockdown_

My shopping expedition would have to wait. I raced to the front of the store. The manager and store security guards were pacing confused. I pulled my badge from my bag and flashed it at the manager.

"I'm Savannah Jones," I said to him, "What happened?"

"Really you're here playing dress up," he said, "This is serious."

"A missing child is serious," I said. I turned to the security guard, "Did you check the East Wing?"

"We're from the 2-7," a voice said parting the crowd a little while later. I felt relief when I saw Mike walking my direction, Briscoe in tow.

"Jones, what are you doing here? Isn't it your day off?" Briscoe asked.

"I was shopping," I responded, "I heard the call and now I'm searching for the girl. The borough commander is pulling people from four precincts searching for her."

"Are the parents here?" Mike asked.

"Just the nanny," I answered, "I called the father, Gary Silver. You know the name?"

"Big Broadway producer," Briscoe answered, "He's got more Tonys than Little Italy."

"The nanny's over there," I said pointing.

"Ma'am," Mike said to the nanny.

"She wouldn't go anywhere without brown dog," she said clutching a stuffed dog.

"Did you see anyone around her?" Mike asked.

"Christina!" a man said charging in, "What the hell happened!"

"She's gone!" Christina sobbed.

"Where the hell were you?" he said.

"I don't know," she cried.

"Are you the girl's father?" I asked.

"Who's in charge around here?" he barked at me.

"Take it easy," Briscoe pushed between the girl's father and me.

"Has my daughter been kidnapped?" he asked.

"That's what we're trying to figure out," I responded.

"Nothing to figure out," he replied, "She's either here or not."

"They'll find her," Christina sobbed.

_At the home of Gary Silver_

"So all I can do is wait?" Gary asked.

"Until somebody calls," Briscoe answered, "Make a list of anybody who would want to get at you."

"People who don't like me send lawyers," Gary responded, "Not kidnappers." He looked at me, "Little girl, shouldn't you call the FBI or something?"

"Only after a ransom request," Mike interjected, "We'd like to get some information on your staff."

"My staff?" he responded, "My housekeeper has been with us for twelve years. Christina, the nanny, is so upset she had to be sedated. She's not involved."

"Is she involved with you?" I asked.

"Don't give the papers more to gossip about," Gary answered.

"Are you and the girl's mother divorced?" Mike asked.

"We share joint custody. Janet left yesterday for some spa. They don't have phones there," Gary answered, "Why haven't they called? If they want money I'll give them money."

"It's possible this isn't about money," Briscoe said softly, "Children get taken for all kinds of reasons."

"Oh God," Gary shouted.

_Back at the station_

"You looking for a perv?" Capt Craigen asked.

"There's a lot of guys who think that's what seven-year olds are for," Briscoe answered.

"This doesn't feel like a pro, Don," Mike added, "She was picked up in a store not on the street."

"It's been nine hours and still no call," I said.

"There were 137 people in the store and no one sees her?" Craigen looked at Mike, "Anything off the picture?"

"A two by two from dad's wallet," Mike replied, "And he doesn't think it looks like her."

"Let's get the new picture to the news," Craigen stated.

Provacci came into the room with the security footage from the store.

"Only one tape?" I asked.

"They got no cameras on the escalator," Provacci answered starting the tape, "They only hit the tape when something suspicious happened."

"That's her," I said pointed at the tape. She was standing in the toy department.

"That's not the nanny," Briscoe added pointing at the man on the tape.

"Look at that jacket," I responded.

"People in the stock room wear jackets like that," Mike said.

"They said as soon as she talked to an employee they turned off the tape," Provacci stated.

"They must have recognized the jacket too," I said.

"Pull up the list of employees," Briscoe said to me.

"There are over 400 employees," I replied, "I'm cross checking for police records."

"What would they all be doing in the stockroom?" Mike asked.

"You don't want to know," I said. "Here's one. Howard Zorn. Went from teacher to store clerk three years ago. Charged with sex abuse one. Pled down to three. A misdemeanor so he didn't do anytime."

"Sex abuse, of who?" Briscoe asked.

"A ten-year old girl," I responded.

"Where does he work in the store?" Mike asked.

"Stock room on the fifth floor, toys," I replied.

_Outside of Zorn's Apartment_

"Mr. Zorn!" Mike shouted and banged on the door. "Police open up!"

"You going to bust the door down?" the landlord asked.

"Why don't you save us the trouble?" Briscoe stated.

"You got a warrant?" the landlord asked.

"We're looking for a seven-year old girl," Mike sternly stated, "Now open it."

"He's one of those," the landlord replied, opening the door.

Mike and Briscoe look through Zorn's belongings. Briscoe picks up a shirt covered with something.

"It's chocolate," Briscoe said smelling the shirt.

"Do you like chocolate?" Mike asked me.

"Who doesn't?" I smiled.

"His night job, Shroeders Fine Chocolates," he said.

"Let's go," I said.

_At Shroeders_

"What do you plan on doing?" I asked as we walked in.

"Can we stick his head in the vat?" Mike joked.

"If we spook him he'll freeze," Briscoe said, "So it's the kinder gentler us."

I followed Mike and Briscoe to Zorn's station.

"Harold Zorn?" Briscoe said.

"I haven't done anything," Zorn responded.

"Take it easy," Briscoe said, "I'm Detective Briscoe this is Detective Logan and Detective Jones."

"Am I being arrested?" Zorn asked.

I looked at Zorn and smiled, "Have you done anything that we should arrest you for?"

"We just want to check up on a few things," Briscoe stated, "This may not be the best place to talk."

"Is about the girl?' Zorn asked.

"We just have a few questions," Mike responded.

"Ok let's get this settled," Zorn replied.

_Back at the station in the interrogation room_

I stood on the outside of the double glass watching Mike and Briscoe question Zorn. Captain Craigen was not ready for me to start questioning suspects. I was to observe.

"I'm not saying I didn't talk to her," Zorn stated.

"Then what?" Mike asked.

"I left for coffee. When I came back, the store was locked down. Where's that cute blonde? She was nice," Zorn replied.

"She's checking your story out," Mike said, "If you're good you'll get to talk to her again."

"I just don't think we have the full picture, Howard," Briscoe said.

"What I don't understand is why you ran," Mike added.

"I told you it was locked down when I got back," Zorn pleaded, "I've done everything I'm supposed to do about my problem."

"But you still wanted her," Mike stated.

"What did you and Samantha talk about?" Briscoe asked.

"I asked her if she liked the giraffe. She said the woman at the register was buying her the stuffed gorilla. That's all," Zorn said.

I took that as my cue to enter. "His alibi checks," I said and looked at Zorn, "Sweetheart, you're free to go."

"Looks like we're back to square one," Mike said. "Any ideas?"

"How many giant stuffed gorillas do you think they sold?" I asked walking back to my computer.

"I don't know," Mike said leaning close behind me. I felt his body close to mine. I focused on the computer screen.

"Someone bought one. Paid $400 cash for it three minutes before lockdown," I said turning eye to eye with Mike. He stepped back.

"$400 what was it stuffed with?" he joked.

"Three minutes to take the escalator and get out the front door with a giant stuffed animal and a little girl?" Briscoe asked.

"I bet the loading docks took a little longer to lock down," I said.

_At Spencer's Loading Docks_

"Anyone ask you if you saw a little girl?" Mike asked the dock manager.

"About 15-20 cops," he answered.

"Anybody load a big stuffed gorilla?" Briscoe asked him.

"End of the day you could give me a box of $1000 bills and I wouldn't notice," he answered.

"Gorilla?" the stock boy asked, "I helped her she had a kid with her."

"What did she look like?" I asked.

"Dark hair," the stock boy responded, "In her 40s I guess."

"What about her car?" Briscoe asked.

"A grey Lincoln," the stock boy answered, "She's lucky she just got a ticket. Most people get towed."

_At the Precinct_

"There were over 200 tickets written on two blocks," Mike said, "The meter maids were busy."

"Most of the cars were Japanese," I stated.

"Another reason to buy American," Mike said smiling.

"63rd and 3rd, Grey Lincoln," Briscoe said.

Briscoe and Mike returned with Myra and Alan Fisher. Mike and Captain Craigen took Mr. Fisher in one interrogation room.

"Come on Jones," Briscoe said to me, "We'll question the wife. Just follow my lead." I nodded and we entered the second interrogation room.

"We had nothing to do with that girl's disappearance," Mrs. Fisher stated.

"You bought the stuffed gorilla," Briscoe said.

"The store had six and now they have five," I added.

"We bought it in the Village for our daughter," she stated.

"Keep digging Mrs. Fisher," Briscoe said, "you're getting deeper and deeper."

"Spencer's is the only store that stocks them," I continued.

"You want to trade Christmas gifts with your daughter in a prison waiting room?" Briscoe threatened.

"We did nothing wrong," she replied. "I want my husband."

I looked at Briscoe. We were not going to get any more information out of Myra Fisher now. We walked out of the room and I started pecking at the keys. Mike and Craigen joined us.

"You find anything?" Mike asked me.

"Nothing on Alan Fisher," I said, "But the wife, Myra used to volunteer at the Abused Children's Legal Defense fund."

_Abused Children's Legal Defense New York Office_

"Thousands of children are abused," Martin Houser, the chair, said, "And no one is arrested so we rescue them."

"Does that include Samantha Silver?" Briscoe asked.

"Who's she?" Houser lied.

"You can call it rescue," Mike glared at the man, "But a grand jury calls it kidnapping."

"Is that a threat?" Peggy Anderson, the co-chair, asked.

"Its penal law," I answered sternly.

"Where did the Fishers take the girl?" Mike inquired.

"They have nothing to do with us," Houser answered.

"You've heard of the Fishers but not Samantha Silver?" Mike stated, "The Fishers are at Central Booking. Do you want to join them?"

"This is the last stop on the train unless we find Samantha," Briscoe sternly stated.

"You have to talk to Ramona Stark," Peggy said, "She's a child psychologist."

"Better hope she's still on the train too," Briscoe responded.

"Where is she?" I asked.

_Outside Ramona Stark's Office_

"Lennie, Savannah come here," Mike said, "Do you hear that?"

"Kids?" I responded to the sound of children talking. I followed Briscoe and Mike down the steps. "What do you think? We've got not warrant." I looked at the locked door.

"Well we've got exigent circumstances," Mike said breaking the window and opening the door. "You wanna get away from the door ma'am."

"It's the police!" the woman shouted. We walked into a room of children with one older woman standing in the center of the room.

"Ramona Stark?" Mike asked her.

"Yes," Dr. Stark responded.

"Nice to meet you," Mike said, "You're under arrest for kidnapping Samantha Silver."

I knelt in front of the little girl who was sitting near Dr. Stark, "Samantha, we're here to take you back to your daddy."

"No!" Samantha shouted running into the arms of a lean blonde woman.

"I'm Janet Silver," she said, "My daughter is here at my request."

"Mrs. Silver, your daughter was abducted from a department store," Briscoe said, "And her father's legal custody."

"She was taken for her protection," Dr. Stark stated.

"My husband will never see her again," Mrs. Silver said, "I want charges brought against him."

"Samantha told us her father molested her," Dr. Stark added.

_The following evening at my apartment_

"Do you know what's going to happen to the girl?" I asked Mike as I sat next to him on my avocado couch.

"It's hard to say," he replied, "She's confused. The mother and that Stark woman aren't making it any easier."

"So there's really no way we'll know what happened to her?" I asked.

"Unfortunately not," he answered, "The cases that involve kids are the hardest for me." He draped his arm across my shoulder.

"How do you handle it?" I leaned my head on his chest.

"I just have to believe that some how it will stop it from happening to another child," he answered. "Ball game ok with you?" I nodded.


	6. Heroes

_**Adult content in this chapter**_

**Chapter Six: Heroes**

"Do I really look like I should still be in high school?" I asked Mike as we were walking in the park together. Over the last few weeks anytime, we went on calls together people commented on how young I looked. I tried not to let it affect my work.

"I try not to think about it," Mike said, "You want a hotdog? These are the best in town." He motioned to the hotdog cart.

"Sure," I answered. He handed me a dog and we sat on a park bench. He watched me as I put the dog in my mouth. "What?"

"I was just thinking of something else your lips could wrap around," he joked. I smiled.

"Maybe later," I winked at him as I finished eating. He took my trash and tossed it in the trashcan.

"I hope so," he took my hand and we continued walking together. I smiled and leaned against him. As usual, when we started to connect his pager went off.

"What is it?" I said when he hung up the phone.

"Girl was shot," he answered, "You want to come with?"

"Ok," we walked back to his car.

"Lovely neighborhood." I commented sarcastically when we pulled up.

"Nice of you to join us," Briscoe said as we climbed the stairs.

"Did someone hear the shot?" Mike asked Officer O'Brian.

"Not in this building," O'Brian answered, "They get under their bed and hope no one comes through the window."

"O'Brian," Mike responded, "Knock on every door."

"Drug dealers have terrible manners," Carl with CSU said.

"Guess they don't go to cotillion," I said.

"She get those bruises when she fell?" Mike asked.

"Not unless someone threw her down," Carl answered.

"You find anything?" I asked David, another CSI agent.

"A .45," he answered, "Confident guy. Only one shot."

"Where did you find it?" I asked.

"In the bedroom," David responded.

"Looks like a drug deal gone bad," Mike said when I walked to where he and Briscoe were talking.

"How many drug addicts do you think there are in town?" Briscoe asked.

"Do I get to take the quiz after class?" Mike asked sarcastically.

"600,000 give or take. But not many are high school heroes," Briscoe answered showing us a graduation picture of the victim.

"Dawn Bryan Class of '95," I read, "Most likely to succeed." I shook my head and we headed down the stairs to talk to the neighbors.

"This place was fine until she moved in," the woman said, "She's from Park Avenue. She wasn't great but she had nice stuff."

"She doesn't have nice stuff now," I responded.

"She sold it a few weeks ago. She said she was raising cash for her boyfriend," she replied, "She let him deal out of her apartment."

"Did you see him?" Briscoe asked.

"Don't know that I'd recognize him," she answered, "Have you called her family?"

"Not yet," Briscoe responded.

"They're uptown 83rd. Her mom used to bring her food," she said.

"Thanks," Briscoe replied.

_Bryan Residence_

"We didn't see her much," Mr. Bryan said.

"She liked people," Mrs. Bryan added, "She had a good heart."

"Her neighbors said you visited her," Mike stated.

"I need to lie down," Mrs. Bryan stumbled as she stood. Her husband helped her down the hall.

"To mom, Dawn will always be queen of the prom," Dawn's brother, Leon, said.

"You don't sound convinced," Briscoe noted.

"I tried to get her into rehab," Leon responded, "She stole my mom's wedding ring."

"So her boyfriend," Briscoe stated, "It wasn't about romance?"

"She _said _he was clean," Leon answered.

"I saw him coming out of Dawn's place twice," Mr. Bryan said when he returned, "Skate, she called him."

_Back at the precinct_

"Skate?" Capt Craigen said, "All you got was his street name."

"Do I look like a magician?" Mike responded, "I'll just pull his name out of my ear."

"Sorry, Mike," Craigen responded, "I didn't shoot the girl."

"I don't know," Mike stated, "This girl…"

"I called the 1-9 and the 3-1," I said, "They got a Slinky, a Silky, no Skate."

"Our luck," Briscoe said, "Good think we're not gamblers or we'd lose our cahoneys. The only usable prints were hers."

"Why don't you carry a sign up and down First that says 'Skate'? Maybe he'll come running," Craigen responded.

"I've got a better idea," Briscoe replied. "Come on Mike, let's go."

"Savannah," Craigen said to me, "Stay here we've got to talk."

"Ok," I responded, knowing nothing good came after _we've got to talk. _"Catch up with you later." Mike and Briscoe headed out.

I walked with Captain Craigen into his office. I breathed so the nervousness didn't reflect in my face. He sat down behind his desk. I took a seat in front.

"I know you're a good cop," Craigen started, "But some of the suspects and other cops have a hard time taking you seriously because you look so young."

"So are you sticking me on desk duty until I look older?" I asked.

"I had a better idea," he said, "There's an undercover program I think you would be a good fit for."

"Vice?" I asked.

"We'll talk about it more once I have all the details," he said.

"Ok," I replied. Craigen opened the door. Briscoe and Mike just locked up Jonas Stark. "Skate?" I looked at Mike.

"Yeah," Briscoe stated, "You want to leave him in central booking?" Two uniforms took him.

"I don't him arraigned until your witnesses can shine headlights on him," Craigen answered.

"Here's a headlight," I said looking at my computer screen, "A year ago that liquor store robbery on Skate's sheet, they dug a .45 slug out of the wall. It matches the slug they pulled out of Dawn Bryan."

"We don't have the gun," Craigen started, "Two: There was an unidentified woman at the robbery that was never found, three: Even a bad lawyer says that woman was Dawn and Skate walks."

"Where did he ditch the damn gun?" Mike stated.

"Let's get this line up started," Briscoe said. He and Mike took the neighbors to view the line up.

"We had to cut him loose," Mike said to me when he came back out, "Briscoe and I are going to talk to the family again."

"Ok, you want to meet for supper?" I asked.

"Francos, about 5?" he responded.

"See you there," I said. He winked and left with Briscoe. I continued searching for any information we could use against Skate. Nothing. I needed a break. I headed out it was almost time to meet Mike anyway.

_Francos Bar and Grill_

"We're still working," Mike said explaining why Briscoe was joining us. I nodded.

"Looks like I'm no longer going to be your shadow," I said. Mike pulled out the chair for me and then sat across the table from me.

"What? Why?" he asked.

"Donnie is getting me assigned to some undercover unit," I said, "Didn't really give me much information. What did you find out about Skate?"

"Someone was after him," Briscoe said, "He owed someone and they'd kill him if he didn't come up with the cash."

"And he'd kill Dawn if she didn't come help him," Mike added.

"I'll have the club," I told the waiter. Mike and Briscoe ordered their food. "Maybe they should just legalize it."

"That'll be good. Another half a million crack heads," Briscoe said sarcastically.

"You don't know that," Mike replied, "I wouldn't do it, neither would you."

"A junkie will be a junkie if it's legal or not," I added.

"So we should just sell it in the drugstores?" Briscoe asked.

"Folks wouldn't kill each other over it," I answered.

"You got any junkies in your family?" Briscoe inquired.

"I don't, Mike?" I responded.

"Just booze and if it were illegal they would cook it up on the stove," Mike answered.

"Write your congressman," Briscoe responded. "The first time we saw Skate he was hiding from someone."

"You think they beat him up at Dawn's apartment?" I asked. Briscoe nodded.

"And the girl too," Mike added, "Find the guy that was after him, maybe we'll get a witness."

"The girl Skate was with when we picked him up," Briscoe stated, "Maybe she knows who he was running from."

"Keisha White," I said finishing my sandwich, "She works at a peep show on 45th."

"You want to tag along on this one?" Mike asked.

"Sure, maybe I'll get some pointers," I smiled and winked at him.

_At the peep show_

"My girls don't get into trouble," the manager said.

"Yeah, they're all nuns," Mike said.

"Go on pick a door," the manager stated, "Get excited it's on the house. Your girl there can watch too."

"Which door is Keisha White?" I asked.

"Ain't got no White," the manager responded and looked at me, "You 18? You could work here. You got a nice rack. Guys would line up to watch you take off your top."

"Suppose we find out find out one of his girls with out with one of the customers. What would he get?" Briscoe asked.

"Promoting prostitution," I answered, "That's a class 'D' felony. He'll be locked up a few months and we take all his assets."

"Ok, she's in booth D," the manager responded, "Don't take up too much of her time."

"Hey your wife and kids are outside. You better drive them home," Mike said to the man in the booth.

"You, outside!" Briscoe shouted at Keisha.

"Two lonely cops, you always get your kicks together," Keisha said, "See you brought a girl with you. Kinky."

"We can talk now or you can lose a day's pay down at the station," Briscoe responded.

"Skate was in trouble," I stated, "Who did he need money for?"

"Skate don't need no money," she replied.

"You make money for him on your back," I said.

"No he'd print it in the basement," she responded.

"Yeah? Well we can print your name on a warrant. Accessory to murder," Mike said.

"I don't know, all right?" Keisha replied, "He didn't say who."

"What about the cut on his head?" Mike asked.

"That was that Bryan girl's fault," Keisha answered, "They came looking for him at her apartment. She gave him up and they beat them both."

"He still needed the money," Mike stated.

"She said she'd take care of it," she replied, "Guess she didn't."

"That would make him angry," Briscoe stated.

"Look Skate gave me stuff to spend time with him," Keisha responded, "I don't get personal."

_Back at the station_

ADA Paul Robinette was looking over all the evidence we had gathered on Skate. "We can't pick him up again. We don't have anything new to hold him on."

"Y'all expecting a call from a plumber?" I asked hanging up the phone, "At the Bryan girl's apartment. Place is flooded. He found something you may want to see."

_Dawn Bryan's Apartment_

"We covered every inch of this place," David, with CSU, said.

"You didn't check the pipe?" I asked.

"Who the fuck checks the sewer pipe?" he responded.

"The neighbors will need air freshener for a month," the plumber said, "Sewage is soft but if you put something big in it sooner or later, it clogs."

"I guess that's a .45?" Mike stated holding the evidence bag.

"It wouldn't have spilled over if this door wasn't left open," the plumber stated.

"You had three guys here? Did you take a nap after we left?" Briscoe asked sarcastically.

"I didn't notice the pipe was open," David answered.

"It wasn't open?" Briscoe replied.

"I don't know," David said.

"You've got plastic gloves in your budget for a reason," Briscoe stated, "You just didn't want to stick your hand in the sewer pipe."

"You think someone's still in forensics?" I asked.

_At the forensics lab_

"Four days in a sewer pipe," Mike stated, "If there's still prints I'll call Sister Maria and make a pledge now." I smiled. Mike was raised Catholic but he wasn't practicing.

"Almost your lucky day," the lab tech said, "No prints and the number's burned."

"How is that lucky?" I asked.

"He said no prints," Briscoe responded.

"On the gun," the tech added. "The sewage wiped the gun clean. Well not _clean_ but no prints. The clip however had a partial thumb and a full index matching the set they sent me. Jonas Stark AKA Skate."

"You're beautiful," Mike responded.

_At my apartment_

Mike sat down next to me on my avocado couch and draped his arm across my shoulders.

"So it was the mom that did it?" I asked.

"The brother framed Skate," Mike said, "I'm done talking about work. I think you promised to wrap your lips around something." He cocked his eyebrow and looked at me.

"Now?" I asked.

"I'm ready any time," he smiled. "But now is ok with me." I slid my hand down his pants.

"I can see that," I responded feeling him stiffen in my hand. I stroked him softly and pulled him out of his pants. I smiled and put the tip in my mouth. He let a soft moan escape his lips. I continued stroking and sucking him.

"Oh yeah," he said as he came in my throat. I sat up and leaned back against the couch. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I answered.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," he said, "I was kidding."

"I didn't do it because I thought I had to," I responded, "I wanted to."

"Ok," he said, "Did Donnie tell you anymore about the transfer?"

"I'm supposed to start tomorrow," I said, "Guess we won't be able to see each other as much."

"We should take advantage of the time we've got then," he said kissing my neck.

"Ok," I pulled his face to mine and kissed his lips softly. He intensified the kiss and slid his hand between my flesh and the band of my pants. He found my moistening folds. I sighed against his lips.

"I want to taste you," he said and slid down my pants. He entered me with his fingers and licked my clit slowly. I laced my fingers through his hair. I threw my head back as I quivered against him. He brought his face back to mine and kissed my lips. I felt him hardening against my thigh. I reached down and guided him inside me.

"You wanted that huh?" I nodded and lifted my hips to meet his. I felt my thighs shake as I came again. He pulled out and came on my stomach. He grabbed a tissue and wiped it off.

"Mike?" I said leaning against him again.

"Yeah?" he responded.

"I think I'm going to miss seeing you all the time," I said.

"Me too," he kissed the top of my head.


End file.
